DC Comics Imagines

Sick Boy - Tim Drake x Reader ft. Sick!Damian

Summary: While taking care of a sick Damian, he calls you Ummi, much to Tim's surprise.

Word Count: 921

Warnings: None

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"(Y/N)." You looked up in surprise from your laptop screen. While Damian was quite fond of you, it was not normal for him to be upstairs so late. At this time of day, he usually was in the Batcave, preparing for patrol with Bruce.

Damian stood in the doorway of the living room, with his customary scowl in place, but something seemed off. You squinted at Damian, cocking your head as if to urge him to continue. It wasn't until Damian spoke again that you immediately realized what was wrong.
"Sobeting's wrong wib be," Damian said and then gave a loud sniff. "I hab dis awbul headache and by throat is clode up and by node won't stob running." You snorted, putting your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. The irony of it all was that the kid actually looked scared.
"You sound sick," You sighed. "C'mere." Damian moved further into the room, walking to the sofa and standing beside you. You reached up and placed your wrist on Damian's forehead. It felt like a slight temperature, but nothing more.
"We can double check with Alfred, but I think you might have the flu, Damian," You finally confessed. "You know this wouldn't have happened if you have taken those flu shots. Alfred said he would take you. Didn't you say no?"
"Da flu?" Damian repeated, his eyes going wide. "I can't hab da flu! I don' get sick! I didn' need a shod. "
"Only ordinary people get sick, right?" Tim asked drily. He had just come upstairs from the Batcave. Tim walked over and sat down on the couch next to you, and kissed your cheek. "Hi, babe."
"Hey Timmy," You gushed, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. "We have a sick kid on our hands."
Tim's eyes widened as he raised his eyebrows at you, and then Damian. Knowing he was on the verge of laughter, you quickly pinched him, giving your what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-you look.
"'Ow am I duppoded to do patrol if I'm sick?" Damian demanded.
Tim smirked. "You're not doing patrol tonight since you're sick," he told Damian.
"'N who's going to watch your back ib I'm not dere?" Damian fumed, "I wab to see Alfred. He'll hab a cure." You gripped Damian's arm to keep him from falling over from the dizziness. "Kid, you've got to sit down. " Damian reluctantly sat down on the couch opposite to you and Tim.
Tim rolled his eyes."I'll call Dick," Tim said. "I'm sure he can come over to Gotham for one night."
"Cheer up, buddy," you said encouragingly. "You like Dick better than Tim, anyway." This scored you a smirk from Damian and an elbow jab from Tim.
Damian groaned, and layed his body on the couch, spreading out his legs and arms.
You shook your head and got up from the sofa. "Come on, Tim." You grabbed Tim's hands and pulled him up. "Let's go get him some Aspirin and soup." Tim rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it and headed into the kitchen, you behind him.
"No," muttered Damian. You turned around and looked at Damian worryingly. "(Y/N), will you sthay? Pwease?" You looked at Tim, and then back at Damian and sighed.
"Tim, go get aspirin and some soup. Please?" You asked, slightly pleading after the look on his face.
"What?" Tim exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "You expect me to get food and medicine for THIS demon spawn alone?"
"Tim, just do it. Ok?" You went and sat down next to Damian, raising your eyes at Tim and waiting.
"You've got to be kidding me," Tim muttered under his breath as he walked back toward the kitchen. Damian leaned into you, hugging your torso. You smiled, wrapping an arm around his back."Wanna watch cartoons?" Damian nodded, and you turned on the TV. "Twank you, Ummi."
"No problem kiddo." You leaned back and heard glass shatter. Jumping up, you noticed Tim's state with an amused look. While stuttering, he tried to speak while pointing at Damian. "Tim! What the heck? Babe, what's wrong?" You demanded.
"He, what - Damian, (Y/N), he just called you Ummi," Tim explained, clearly still shook. You dryly laughed, not exactly sure what was going on. "So? What does that even mean, Damian?" You requested, looking at Damian.
"It means mother in Arabic, and the only other person he calls Ummi is, well, Talia," Tim added. Your eyes widened.
"Damian, is this true?" You conceded. Damian nodded and closed his eyes. "I'm sweeping," he muttered and turned his body to face the inside of the couch.
You got up, turning the TV off and walked over to the bathroom to get papers towel for the spill. When you got back, you handed Tim some paper towels and crouched down, soaking the water. "Tim, him calling me Ummi; that's a good thing, right?" You questioned, dropping more paper towels on the floor.
"Huh?" Tim looked at your concerned face and grinned. "Of course. I'm surprised he even let you touch him. The closest we ever are is during training or when we're fighting. I think he likes you." He chuckles as your eyes light up. "Heck, you might even beat Dick."
His reassuring laughter takes the weight off your shoulders, and you laugh with him. "Thanks, Tim." You whisper, foreheads touching, and kiss him softly. Tim smiles into the kiss, falling for you just a little more.